


Waste and Void

by Relvetica



Series: An Old Handful of Small Xenosaga Fics I am Rescuing from LJ [1]
Category: Xenosaga
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relvetica/pseuds/Relvetica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn't like to be called Yeshua, though Wilhelm had never understood what difference it made. He didn't know how else to address it, nameless as it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waste and Void

Given the length of their relationship, and occasionally the nature of it, Wilhelm knew he was supposed to be worried when the Anima drank, and he occasionally affected concern for appearances' sake. That was when the Anima was least tolerant of affectation, however, so he usually didn't bother either of them with it. The living vessel the Anima had been crammed into was too small for most of the things required of it, and Wilhelm didn't understand why it took on unnecessary further tasks like drinking to excess. Humans took comfort in alcohol, that much he understood; that was why he kept so much of it on hand. But there was something to be said about diminishing returns.

The Anima had come to rest in the doorway of Wilhelm's office, a line marring the space between its brows and its fingers curled loosely at its hips. The boy the Anima inhabited could be too expressive to properly read at times. It was only when it kept his face entirely blank that Wilhelm could make out the tangle of ridiculous thoughts behind it clearly. Such an odd creature it was.

"How are you feeling, Yeshua?" he asked.

The Anima lifted its lip in a silent and drowsy snarl -- it didn't like to be called Yeshua, though Wilhelm had never understood what difference it made. He didn't know how else to address it, nameless as it was. It came into the room nevertheless, walking steadily but betrayed by a hundred small details in its posture and bearing. Most men accepted offers of whiskey or bourbon, but the Anima only ever seemed to want wine. It didn't usually follow up on that with a desire for company. "Are you well?" Wilhelm asked again.

It shrugged. It was still wearing the suit from the meeting earlier about the military commissions. Wilhelm supposed this handful of details formed a story, but he did not particularly care. The Anima walked past his desk to the window and gazed out into the darkness and light of deep space; it was quiet and still there, and Wilhelm turned back to his display and continued to skim the quarter's report.

After a few minutes, the Anima sat down on the floor and leaned its forehead on the glass. Wilhelm asked, "Are you looking for something?"

"Yes," the Anima said.

"You won't find it like that," Wilhelm said. "Even if you do, it would be thousands of years out of date."

It sighed. It was exceptionally good at sighing. Wilhelm was unmoved, but he did, on an intellectual level, understand. The Anima was in pain, for whatever reason it had gotten its thorny morals caught on this time, and that wasn't good for anyone. Wilhelm pitched his voice a little lower, softer, and said, "Yeshua."

Its face crumpled. Again, that could mean anything, but after a moment the desired effect manifested and the Anima left the window. It half-crawled to where Wilhelm sat and leaned its temple on his knee. He grasped its shoulder carefully and maneuvered it into a position that seemed more comfortable, and he stroked its hair the same way a person would pet an unhappy cat's.

The Anima said, "I don't want to be here anymore."

"Then go somewhere else."

"There is nowhere else."

Wilhelm said, "That's unfortunate."

"It's by your own hand," The Anima said. "Yaldabaoth is the most jealous god of all; he will take from us all things he himself cannot understand."

"I see." Wilhelm brushed its hair from its temple, and it closed its eyes. "That's a curious opinion."

"It's not an opinion."

"I found a word," Wilhelm said, "but I didn't write it. I didn't say it for anyone else to write and for someone else to find. If there is a god of cruel design in this universe, it's come to reside in you."

The Anima said, "And you reside in emptiness."

"We all reside in emptiness," Wilhelm said. "We all exist to fill it and to push it away." He stroked the Anima's eyebrow with his thumb. "All of us, except you."

The Anima opened its eyes, but it had nothing more to say.


End file.
